Aurora
by crazylittleelf
Summary: The team is assigned a seemingly pointless investigation.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This is part one of a (probably) eighteen part case-file story. I'm aiming for a chapter a week, but that's not set in stone. Enjoy. :)

* * *

"Agent Dunham."

I have to suppress a shudder at Harris' smarmy voice drawling my name. He's far closer than I usually let him get and I'm kicking myself for being distracted by the stupid texts Peter's been sending me all morning. I've gotten good at avoiding Harris and I can usually slip into a side hallway before he can pin me down, but I was looking at my phone instead of watching where I was going.

He's smirking, mocking like the bully he is. The institutional green of the walls gives his face a sickly cast, making an unappealing creature even more loathsome. My hand clenches into a fist of it's own accord and I run the numbers again on exactly how badly things would go for me if I ever do lose it and punch him.

"I have a little project that requires your team's... unique talents." I'm biting my tongue to keep from defending them. It's useless with him; their own merits mean nothing in the face of Harris' hatred of me. It galls me though, that he dismisses them so easily, these people I've come to trust. I worry that this vendetta will wreck Astrid's career, land Walter back at St. Claire's. Peter... Peter lands on his feet. I don't worry about him.

"We've got plenty to keep us busy already, thanks." I try to keep walking but he stops me by smacking the case folder against my chest as I pass. God, the urge to throw him against the wall is nearly overwhelming. I slide my gaze up to his and we lock eyes for long moments. I know he's manipulating me, know he's seeing how far he can push, but that doesn't make it any easier to not push back. His vicious little smirk taunts me.

"I'm not presenting this as an option, Dunham." I grab the folder away from him and glance through it. "Seems to be something your little band of screw-ups can handle."

"What the hell is this? Lights in the sky?"

"You investigate weird events, don't you?"

"We investigate crimes linked to a widespread..."

"Wrong answer, Dunham." He steps close, right in my face, close enough to smell his breath and the stale sweat that his aftershave can't quite cover. "The correct answer is that you investigate whatever you are assigned. Is that understood?"

I hold his eyes longer than I should. Harris isn't the only one good at taunting. I wait until he's almost ready to bark the question again, the muscles along his jaw twitching. Adrenaline licks like flames through my system, spoiling for a fight that isn't coming, and I'm wearing the feral smile Charlie says makes me look like a panther. "Yes... Sir."

"Well then, collect your... team." He sneers the word. "It's a long drive to Maine. Can't be wasting resources on flights in these lean times."

I know I'm stomping like Ella when she's well on her way to a tantrum as I head to Broyles' office but I can't quite bring myself to stop. Therapy, I suppose. The door to his ridiculously big office is open and he's looking up at me, denying me the petty pleasure of irritating him by barging in without knocking. I slam the door behind me for good measure.

"Don't start..."

"He's sending me to Maine to investigate weird lights in the sky. Lights. In the sky. This is ridiculous. He's looking for the most idiotic things to assign to me all because he's out to get me and he doesn't even care that he's taking me away from real cases. This..." I wave the file in his expressionless face, "is a complete waste of time. It's not even a real case! Some drunk hunters seeing things in the sky and I'm supposed to drop everything? This is bullshit and I'm tired of it!"

One eyebrow quirks up but that's his only reaction. He watches me for a moment, the dark pools of his eyes impossible to read. "Are you finished?" There's dry annoyance and a hint of amusement in his voice but nothing resembling surprise.

I slump down into a chair. "You already knew."

"Harris is insistent that you work the case. Go. Investigate. Come home, file your report and get back to work."

I sigh and fix my eyes on the shelf behind him for a long moment before meeting his eyes again. I never expected to find an ally in him. Amazing what having your illusions about the people you call your friends shattered will do to you. There's a sympathy in his eyes now, a kinship born of betrayal, and the loyalty makes it easy to accept the order from him. Easier, anyway.

"Yes, Sir." I try not to let resignation creep into my voice and fail miserably.

His mouth twitches into a tiny smile. "His investigation will be over soon. Your work is above reproach and he'll leave with nothing."

I let myself smile back at him. "Thank you, Sir."

I gather my things form my office, taking a moment to look at the big ariel photo of Boston. Everyone assumes that it's here for tactical reasons, providing useful details about the city, but that's only part of it's job. The pattern of the streets is soothing to me, the lines and the order of the grid are calming. I count the streets when things are really bad, but today it's enough to just look.

Harris is lurking outside, catching me by surprise yet again. "Have fun in Maine, Agent Dunham."

I snarl at him on my way past and head to the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

Quiescence is something I appreciate here in this madhouse and Walter is in a obliging mood this morning. He's scribbling on graph paper, murmuring nonsensically at a volume just above white noise. The sound's become worryingly familiar over the last few months and the little seed of panic is barely noticeable anymore. I still don't like being here, but the urge to flee is manageable. And when I feel like being honest with myself, which, let's face it isn't all that often, I have to admit I kinda like being here. We three lab rats have settled into a routine with Walter working on what catches his fancy and Astrid running to keep up with him and me watching from a safe distance. Distance is a tricky thing, though, and it's tough to know when you've gotten far enough away to avoid the fallout of Walter's skewed version of science. But not today. Today it's quiet.

Astrid's working on her laptop, has it angled to see Walter over the screen, one earbud dangling unused. She's learned the hard way that the old man's not to be trusted, affable as he may be on good days, or good minutes, as quickly as he shifts. Her head's nodding slightly in time with her music or in time with the rhythms of Walter's ramblings, depending on the ear she happens to be listening with at the time.

We've taken to alternating the responsibilities of mad scientist feeding. She tries to force healthy, culturally diverse sustenance down him, usually meeting with all the success you might imagine, although the dosas with mango jam went over well yesterday, at least until she noticed he was just licking off the jam. I take a much easier road and ply the bastard with the sugaryist cereal I can find. It's probably not good for any of us in the long run, but it's just too hard to argue with him in the morning and by the time he crashes I'm fully awake and more able to deal with him.

The outer door opens signaling an impending Olivia visit and it's going to be bad. The hairs on the back of my neck quiver to attention and it's like that breathless pause between lightning and the clap of thunder that follows. Astrid's gone still and Walter's gone silent and I sit my bowl of Lucky Charms down on the table, cursing their lack of effectiveness. She slams into the lab, heads straight to the office she's all but pissed a circle around and I'm wordlessly arguing with Astrid about who has to go in first. Astrid's frowning, pouting a little and I'm shaking my head at her and glaring but I know it's my turn. We play our little game of rolling eyes and wrinkled noses longer than necessary because really, I don't want to go in there, but it will be hellish until she's been placated. God, she's just like Walter in that regard.

"It upsets Jean when she's like that. She should be more considerate of her coworker's feelings." His voice is pitched low, sullen.

Roll my eyes over to his direction. "Walter, I don't think Olivia considers a cow to be her coworker."

"Well, she should." Mouth set in a tight line and he's hunched his shoulders up, whatever he was working on is forgotten as he stares absently at the table. Take the long way around the lab on my way to the office so I pass by him and pat his shoulder, still awkward but it's getting easier and that in and of itself is frightening. Still resentful of this, caring for him in ways he never bothered to do for me and the hateful little voice in my head tells me I should hurt him at every turn.

It's getting easier to ignore it.

"It's okay, Walter. She's not mad at us." Startled that I'm there, so close to him, because he'd gone away a little bit again, murky gray eyes watery and worried. Watches me for a moment, assessing. He's getting better about detecting the sarcasm, still has to think about it though, run it through analysis first to determine whether or not I'm being serious.

"Yes, yes... I know." Nodding, back to his work but still frowning. He doesn't know, never knows, takes everything personally and I'm careful to hide my own anger until I'm well away from him. He's already going to be back to sleeping in the closet tonight, I don't need to make it any worse.

Watch her though the windows as I stalk over, into the room, closing the door behind me careful not to slam it. Doesn't even look up, she's ignoring me and she's glaring at the file she has open in front of her. I drop into the extra chair and wait, laying siege to Fortress Dunham, watching her out of the corner of my eye as I stare at the grimy window. We really need to convince the cleaning crew that it's safe to come in here again.

She huffs out an annoyed breath and her pen hits the desk with an clatter that portends the redirection of her wrath from the poor helpless file she's been trying to kill with her eyes to poor helpless Peter, soon to be martyred in the cause of bringing peace to the lab. Might as well get things rolling.

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?" One day she really is going to kill me for that, but come on, it's a big red button with a "DO NOT PUSH" sign hanging over it. She makes it too much fun to resist.

She goes still as a statue, then her eyes narrow before slowly, slowly shifting towards me, green flames shrouded by sooty lashes. Her lips part, baring her teeth slightly and the image is there in my mind like it is every time she looks at me like that and I barely even feel guilty thinking it anymore. That dangerous look is what I would get if I'm ever stupid enough to talk my way into her bed. That would be possibly the dumbest thing I've ever done. Between her track record of screwed up relationships, my deeply-rooted terror of commitment and both of our self-destructive tendencies we'd lay entire cities to waste in the resulting conflict.

"Don't start with me, Peter."

"Oh, wouldn't think of it."

"Peter..." She growls my name out, all threatening and sexy. If she doesn't want me to fight with her she shouldn't do that.

"This is getting old, Olivia. I don't know why but he goes off the deep end when you're upset but it's hard enough keeping him balanced I don't need you screwing things up because you're feeling particularly bitchy. If I've got to give up my whole life the least you can do is put on a cheerful face."

"Your life? You were dealing with criminals in a war zone while running from the mob. Don't you dare act like you made some kind of noble sacrifice..."

"I was fine where I was and a hell of a lot happier there. I even had my own apartment."

"We're working on..."

"Oh, come off it, Olivia, you expect me to believe that the FBI can't find an empty apartment in Boston in three months? You're not even looking."

She at least has the good grace to look ashamed at that. Sighs and drops her eyes to the desk. "Broyles thinks it's too risky, that it's safer to keep Walter in a more confined environment."

Hot anger washes over me. "He's not a zoo exhibit."

"I know! I know, Peter. I'm trying." She looks at me again, pleading with her eyes and I see it. That this is another entry on the laundry list from hell of things she blames on herself.

I sigh and drop my head against the back of the chair. Stare at the window again, at the wavy old glass and sheathing of dust. "So what is it now?" I roll my head towards her without lifting it. "Harris move your office to the basement and ask you to take care of the roach problem?"

She smirks coldly for a moment, then snorts with real laughter and smiles.

"Might as well have." She holds up a blurry picture. "Ever been to Maine?"

"Yes. What does that have to do with a picture of a tree. Or... barn? What the hell is that?"

"It's this bit," and points to a whitish smudge at the top of the photo. "Lights. In the sky."

Frown at her 'cause I'm not following at all. "And..."

"We're supposed to find out what's causing them."

"Olivia... that's a streetlight."

She shrugs and throws the picture down on the desk. "Noticed that, did you?"

"We're hauling Walter to Maine to look at streetlights?" I'm starting to smile now, it's so fucking absurd and she's looking away to keep from giggling.

"Yep."

"Oh my god."


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Ug, this story derailed itself utterly. Sorry for the lack of updates. Back to Olivia's POV for this chapter.

* * *

I knock on his hotel door and as always there's a little seed of anticipation, half-way between nervous and excited. I studiously ignore it and wait, rocking back on my heels and chewing absently on my lower lip. I roll my eyes and glance at my watch after a few minutes then move on to Walter's door. I can hear them arguing before I knock there, the sound silencing them. It's a long moment before the door cracks open and Peter peeks out.

"Give us a minute, would ya?" He sounds exasperated.

"Astrid's waiting downstairs in the car."

He holds his hand out towards me, gesturing for me to wait or stop or something. "Yeah. Okay. Look…"

"Is that Agent Dunham?"

He turns away for a moment. "Finish packing, Walter. Just enough clothing for a couple days. And pack underwear. You're not borrowing mine." He's snapping with annoyance and there's none of the patience he's been showing with Walter lately.

"Ask her if we can stop to get snacks before we leave. Some of those chewy fruit things would be wonderful." Peter's face is pushed aside and Walter looks out from behind the door, grinning happily. "Hello, Agent Dunham. We're going on a trip!"

"Yes. I know Walter. Are you all packed so that we can leave?" I can't help but smile at him. There's a childlike quality to him sometimes. It makes it even that much more of a sucker-punch when you're reminded abruptly what he's capable of doing.

"Oh! Let me go finish. I won't be but a moment, my dear."

Peter sighs as his father moves away and leans against the wall, still holding the door open only an inch or two. He smiles, but it's a defeated looking thing. "He's naked, by the way. That's why I'm not letting you inside. I'm not trying to be rude."

I open my mouth to say… something, but as is often the case around the Bishops, words fail me. I settle for, "thank you," nodding to reinforce the phrase. He looks exhausted and I feel guilty again for dragging him into this.

"He's actually packing now, you can go wait in the car if you want. We'll be down soon."

"Make sure he gets dressed first." I smirk at him before backing away from the door.

"Oh, you know you'd love to have my father riding around naked in the back of your car." A man in a wrinkled business suit gives us a startled look as he fumbles with the lock to his room. Peter glares at him. "What?"

"I'll see you two downstairs."

* * *

"The GPS is all programmed." Astrid smiles at me from the passenger seat of the Explorer.

"Thanks, Astrid."

"So… are they coming down?"

I chuckle at that and she smirks when I glance over at her. "Walter's still packing."

"This is gonna be hell. You understand that, right?"

I laugh and drop my head back against the seat. "Yeah. I figured that one out."

Walter's face appears suddenly at Astrid's window and we both jump. "Hello! I'm going to sit in back with Peter, if that is alright with you, miss?"

Astrid gives him a bemused smile. "Sure, Walter, that'd be great." I climb out to help Peter put their bags in the back. He slams the door shut and gives me a thoughtful look.

"Why don't you let me drive?"

I narrow my eyes at him with suspiscion. "Why?"

He shrugs, extremely casually and glances towards the back seat. "No reason." I can't believe he ever got anywhere with the cons he was running.

"You just don't want to sit in the backseat with your father."

"_Walter_ is in an exceedingly psychotic mood today…"

"So you think _I _want to sit next to him? Try your luck with Astrid." He glares at me and I glare back, the frisson of heat between us a nearly palatable thing until we're startled apart by the honking of the horn. Astrid and Walter are both smirking when we turn to glare at them.

* * *

"Olivia."

"Yes, Walter?"

"Can we stop and get snacks?" He sounds extremely hopeful.

"We're going to be in the car for _two_ hours. You don't need any snacks." He sounds extremely irritated.

"I wasn't talking to you, boy."

"Olivia's driving, leave her alone."

"I'm sure she can drive and speak at the same time."

"Dammit, Walter…"

"Both of you! Stop it!"

There's sullen silence from the back seat and I glance at the clock. Fifteen minutes. There's no way we're going to make it to Maine with out me killing one of them.

Walter's voice is a hissing whisper. "You're very inconsiderate. You should have offered to drive."

"I'm inconsiderate? You're the one who was ready to answer your hotel door wearing only wool socks. You don't have any room to talk."

"Peter…" I pitch my voice low and meet his eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Shut up."

"Yes Ma'am."


End file.
